The Color Red
by sarahel239
Summary: Peter Pettigrew betrayed my best friend and his family. He sold them out to Lord Voldemort and now James and Lily Potter are dead and Harry is an orphan. We all trusted him and he did this to us. I’m going to find him. He’s going to pay for this.MMWP era


The hum of a motor broke the silence in a desolate wood. A small and fat gray squirrel darted out from under the roots of an enormous elm. The moon shone brightly as the gentle white light illuminated the forest floor. The moon beams reflected against a few raindrops leftover from a storm the previous night on a pile of leaves and made them glisten. 

The motorbike landed softly on the wet leaves. A tall, black-haired man dismounted from the bike, his dragon-hide boots sinking into the debris.

"Shit," he whispered softly. It would take him awhile to get the soggy mess off the expensive shoes, but he decided not to think about it anymore. There were more important matters to attend to right now. Peter would have Apparated to their meeting place nearby right after they finished the spell. It was his job to make sure that Peter was still safe and help Peter magically seal off the cave.

Then, Sirius would have to run. Everyone knew that he was James' best friend. They'd follow him instead. If they thought that he was their Secret Keeper, then James, Lily and Harry would be safe. No matter what happened, even if he was caught by the Death Eaters, he wouldn't be able to tell them anything. The Death Eaters wouldn't be able to find the Potters; Peter would be safe, as would James, Harry and Lily. Not even Dumbledore knew where Peter was or that he was the Secret Keeper. 

Sirius could not help thinking that he would have rather had Remus be the Secret Keeper; he knew that it was a good bluff, but he wasn't sure how well Peter would hold up under torture. Peter was loyal, but he had always been the weakest of the Marauders. However, Sirius just wasn't sure whether Remus could be trusted anymore than Peter.

Everything was going to hell. James had come to him two days before and asked him to act as Secret Keeper instead of Dumbledore; he still didn't know why. They had performed the Fidelius Charm yesterday and planned a meeting at midnight the next day. In the meantime, Sirius had flown around on his bike and made sure that he was seen. After this, he would go south. The renegade Dementors under Voldemort's control would have a hard time finding him and that at least would be one less worry for him.

Sirius pushed his way through trees. The bare branches brushed his arms and one particularly sharp limb ripped the arm of his maroon Merlin's Men t-shirt. Blood started to flow down his forearm. He stopped to quickly heal the cut before he went on.

A minute later, Sirius reached the opening of the cave where Peter was waiting. He had told Peter to go as deep into the cave as he could and started the steep downwards climb, deep into the cave. He pushed his hands against the walls of the passage to keep his balance. There were loose rocks under his feet and some bounced down as he walked. He dug his heals into the floor to keep himself upright. He felt the sole of the boot rip a bit and knew that the boots were really ruined now, but was thankful to have reached the bottom in one piece.

"_Lumos,_" Sirius incanted softly. The darkness was so thick around him that the light emitting from the wand only gave about a metre of light in front of him. The floor and walls of the cave were smooth which sharply juxtaposed the entry way.

"Peter," he whispered. "Wormtail, we need to do this quick and I can't see a damn thing. Get here quick!" There was no response.

"Wormtail!" Sirius shouted. After another minute of screaming and hearing no response, he knew there was something wrong. Maybe the Death eaters had found him after all. Sirius ran around the small cave, illuminating every corner of the space, but Peter wasn't there. There was no sign that Peter had ever been in the cave. Sirius sent the light back up to the passageway. There were only about fifteen rocks by the opening. Sirius heard at least that many fall down when he was walking down. The Death Eaters wouldn't have cleaned up that much. They liked to make a statement. They would have left the body, left the debris, left signs of a struggle. They would have been more goddamn rocks at the bottom if Wormtail or anyone else had been there.

Panicking, Sirius scrambled as fast as he could back to the forest. He breathed in the fresh and musty air in deep gasps. Sirius looked up at the night sky, confirming his worst fear that he had been right all along. As much as he hated it, he desperately wished to see the Dark Mark, but instead was greeted with an empty sky.

He ran back to the clearing where he landed his motorbike and jumped on. He determinedly flew north to Godric's Hollow; James had picked the town because he had loved Gryffindor so much. It was only twenty kilometers away and with the flying bike, it would only take Sirius minutes to reach it. If he Apparated, he'd have to do it far away, or at least far enough to walk to the house, and he didn't have the time. The bike would be quicker. He silently prayed that he wasn't too late. However, when he was close to the house, he saw it. Hovering over the house was a green skull with a snake emerging from the mouth, a sign dreaded by all Wizarding kind.

He landed next to the Potters' former house. It didn't look anything like the majestic house he had been to so often before. The east side of the house was almost completely burned down. Only a skeleton of the frame remained in place. The other side had black smoke marks covering most of it and a couple of the walls looked like they had caved in, but for the most part, it looked intact. Sirius saw the red and gold wallpaper that James and Lily had chosen for their living room so proudly, discolored and peeling off the walls through one of the destroyed parts of the once-grand home. The front of that room had completely caved in, but the rest was unbroken.

He rushed through the hole in the wall, kicking away the remaining pieces of furniture as he went. Then he tried to kick some cushions from the couch out of the way so that he could go down the hall and up the stairs. But they wouldn't budge. It wasn't until he pushed them away that he saw him; James. They had been best friends for so long. His black hair was still matted to his face. His eyes were open, but the green in his hazel eyes weren't glinting mischievously like they usually did; they were terrified and frozen. Sirius lifted up James' hand, but it felt oddly waxy and stiff. Sirius dropped it quickly, and let out a guttural scream.

"Sirius," a loud, gruff voice yelled at him, "Sirius Black."

Sirius shouted again in anguish, and backed away from the cadaver. He leaned back and crawled backwards to the other side of the room and despite himself, started crying. An enormous man with a thick moleskin overcoat pushed the door open and moved the corpse to the side in the process. He burst in with one arm held to his chest.

"Hagrid," Sirius cried out. He was relieved that it was only Hagrid. He wanted to go over to the groundskeeper that he had known so long, but he couldn't move. He couldn't go near James. Instead, he stayed still, leaning against the frame of the charred fireplace. Hagrid tried to come across the room slowly, but his sheer size made it so that he crossed the room in three strides. Tentatively, he reached over to Sirius with his left hand. Sirius flinched, and tried to back away more but he was already at the wall.

"I'm sorry," Hagrid whispered as gently as his gruff voice would allow. Sirius tried to swallow, put on his face straight and hold back everything, but it didn't work. He started sobbing. He raised his arms up to his face, trying to block Hagrid from seeing him crying. Hagrid didn't say a word. Instead, he squatted near Sirius, and let him release every emotion that he was feeling. Suddenly, Sirius realised that he wasn't the only one crying. He lowered his hands and looked at Hagrid. His eyes were glistening with tears, but he wasn't sobbing. That was when Sirius noticed that there was a bundle in Hagrid's right arm, clutched tightly to his chest. Sirius didn't understand how it was even possible. Voldemort had come for him. But Harry was squealing in Hagrid's arm. There was blood slowly running down his forehead and onto the blanket around him. Other than that though, he looked fine.

"Hagrid," Sirius murmured. "How?"

"I don' know. Professor Dumbledore just tol' me to come here and get Harry here. It's a miracle. I don' know how though." Sirius kept on staring at the crying baby awestruck. Harry was still there. Everyone would come after him. He needed to be kept safe. Sirius needed to take Harry and keep him safe; James would have wanted it.

"Hagrid, let me take Harry. I'm his godfather."

"Can' do that. Dumbledore's orders, you know. He wants to make sure that Harry will be safe." At this, Sirius became infuriated. Didn't he and Dumbledore understand what was at stake? The Death Eaters knew and would come after Harry. 

"I'm sorry, Sirius. Dumbledore's order."

Sirius' frustration overrode his fear of going near James' body and he ran through the door on the other side of the room. He needed to be alone right then. As he was rounding a corner in the hallway, something rolled under his foot and he came crashing to the floor with a thud. He turned to see which piece of debris made him fall over and saw a short and thin willow wand; Peter's wand. James and Sirius had been so careful to make sure that forgetful old Wormtail had taken this with him the night before. For the first time, it really hit Sirius. He had known the truth ever since he left the cave.

Peter. Peter had been there. Peter had been there for the death. Peter had helped Voldemort. Peter was the turncoat, not Remus. Peter was the reason that Harry didn't have a father anymore. Peter was the reason that his best friend was now dead. Peter had _betrayed_ them. Peter _would pay_ for this.

"Hagrid!" Sirius yelled frantically, sending Harry into another round of hysterics and making Hagrid jumped a bit at the commotion, as he shoved the wand into his pocket.

"What exactly happened?" Sirius asked in a quieter voice.

"Didn't you know? Though' that's why you came. Harry's alive, but Lily and James…" Hagrid trailed off, and went into sobs as loud as little Harry's.

"Hagrid, please," Sirius pleaded.

"Well, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is g-g-gone too."

"Did Lily or James?"

"No, they're both d-d-dead. It's only Harry. For some reason, it didn' kill Harry. He's got this cut and that's it. We'd better leave now. People might fin' us soon. I've got to hide Harry here for awhile. Dumbledore says that he's got to do some things before I can bring Harry to his aunt's." Hagrid went out to the hallway closet and started wrapping Harry in a bunch of blankets. He came back in and dumped some flowers out of a large decorative basket, put a pillow on the bottom and gently laid Harry in it. Sirius had to make sure that they were safe, but he had to find Peter. He wanted to do both. Then he found the best thing that he could do to help.

"Hagrid, the bike's got an invisibility booster in it and runs off magic. You can hide on it for however long you need. Take it."

"I can't do that Sirius. You love that bike," Hagrid murmured as he turned to leave.

"Take it, Hagrid. I won't be needing it anymore," Sirius declared.

"Alrigh', Sirius. I'll give it back after I return," Hagrid promised. Sirius and Hagrid went back out into the night chill again. Hagrid mounted the bike and Sirius watched it take off, shivering with the cold. The motorbike had a heater so he hadn't brought a cloak. He went back into the house and pulled one of James's old Hogwarts cloaks out of the hall closet. As he was fastening the silver buckle, he looked at the Potter's old clock and noticed that it was four o'clock. He had been sitting in the ruined house for longer than he thought.

Sirius knew that he'd have to find Peter. Maybe he could convince Peter to turn himself in. If not, he'd do what needed to be done. Peter would probably try and run. Knowing Peter (although he wasn't all that sure he did anymore), he'd probably go to Gringott's before he ran. He'd need money as his magic alone would not get him very far. Sirius decided that it was as good as any place to start looking.

He Apparated to Diagon Alley and went into the Leaky Cauldron to pass time. Gringott's didn't open for another couple hours. He needed a drink. He wanted several actually, but he needed to be sober for the next few hours. Sirius sat in a back corner and slumped into the oak chair. He put his elbow up on the table and rested his head on his hand, feeling tired and drained. Tom the barman came over and brought him his usual drink; Odgen's Old Firewhiskey.

The longer Sirius sat there, the more energised he became, which was strange considering he hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours, and he had walked in exhausted. But then he realised it wasn't energy bubbling up to the surface; it was pure unadulterated hatred. He didn't care anymore how involved Peter had been. He wanted him dead. Peter had to know exactly what James had gone through. Azkaban wasn't enough for him. The Marauders had protected him in school and this was how he repaid them. They would have died for him and he turned on them. No, he didn't deserve jail. That was too easy. He would-

_Bam!_ The door of the pub swung open with a great amount of force, breaking Sirius' concentration.

"He's gone! You-Know-Who is gone! He's dead. We're free now!" a little wizard with a blue pointed hat and a beard almost as long as he was tall, squealed merrily. All the people in the pub ran over to talk to him to find out what had happened. Sirius quietly edged his way to the door. Gringott's would be opening in a half an hour and he would have a hard time making his way out later; Wizards were popping out of the fire grate in the Leaky Cauldron and others were rushing in from the Muggle entrance. Others were running in from Diagon Alley itself, they must have Apparated there a second earlier. Everyone came spilling in. All ordered rounds for the whole house and drinks were being slopped around as people bumped into each other, while others danced gaily.

It took Sirius ten minutes to get out of the establishment, and to the front stairs of Gringott's. As Sirius approached the stairs, he saw _him_. Peter was sitting at the base of a gargoyle to the left of the entrance with his cloak over his head. Sirius made his way up the stairs slowly so he wouldn't attract attention. He inched closer and closer until he was less than a foot away from him.

"Good morning, Wormtail," he enunciated in a sarcastic tone.

"Padfoot, my old friend," Peter whimpered as he tried to remain calm. "Wha-what brings you here?"

"You know damn well!" Sirius shouted, unable to keep his cool anymore.

"I couldn't stop it Sirius," Peter whined. "They forced me."

"They did no such thing, you filthy piece of vermin!" Sirius barked, ripping out his wand and pointing it at Peter's head, but Peter turned into a rat before Sirius could curse him. He chased the rat, pushing aside anyone that got in his way, shoving everyone blocking him from Peter as hard as he could. He sprinted faster than he thought humanly possible to keep up with the scuttling rat, darting between people's feet. Peter scampered out into Muggle London and tried to get lost among the feet of passersby and behind rubbish.

"You can't hide, you piece of shit," Sirius said as loudly as he could over his heavy breathing. He continued chasing Peter for a half a mile. Peter ran into a dirty alleyway along with a couple other rats, but then there was a colony of them. There were hundreds of rats trying to squeeze through one hole in the wall, and they were moving slowly. But Padfoot had seen his Animagus form too often. He was able to tell which rat his former companion was. Sirius was able to corner him. He quickly performed the spell that turned Peter into his human form.

"I…I… don't know what," Peter stammered.

"I saw _this_ there," Sirius cut off viciously. He pulled the wand out of his pocket and threw it at the cowering man and pointed his own wand at the little man opposite him.

"You can't do it, Padfoot," Peter squeaked. "James wouldn't have wanted you to. He loved me as much as he did you."

"All the more reason you despicable piece of filth! All I've been seeing since I saw that empty cave is red. I'm going to kill you now. You should have known that I'd find you. Nothing will appease this anger that I feel right now except your corpse being eaten by the vermin you turn into," Sirius spat at him. He raised his wand to Peter's eye level.

All of a sudden, Peter started shouting.

"Lily! James! How could you, Sirius?" he bellowed at the top of his lungs.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Sirius roared back.

Out of nowhere, Sirius heard an enormous explosion. Sirius looked around a saw a gaping hole in the street behind him. There were Muggles screaming. He saw a young woman near him covered with blood over her entire body and black, scorched skin around what was left of her face. There was a boy, no older than five, screaming and crying out in pain with the melted pavement of the street burning the lower part of his leg, one of his sleeves still on fire. There was so many; all yelling in agony. Sirius turned around, more determined than ever to kill the former friend, who he didn't even recognise anymore.

Then, he saw it.

A severed finger was being chewed by some of the rats in the alley, and there was a line of blood leading to the whole in the wall where all of the rats were scurrying over faster now because of the blast. 

Sirius stared at the scene before him for a half a minute. The filthy rat had run. All of this, and the traitor had gotten away. Peter, the boy he had trusted for so many years was a mass murderer, and he got away with the rats. And to think that Sirius and James were the one who had taught him how to become a rat. The Ministry would be along in a minute and they'd arrest him for killing his best friend while the real killer was hiding in a hole with pests. 

Then, for a reason even he didn't understand, Sirius started laughing. It wasn't funny, not by a long shot. But, Peter had gotten away. Everything had been for nothing. Everything was gone and it was all a rat's fault. It was a mirthless laugh; it was empty and hopeless, but he couldn't stop.

Just as Sirius thought, the Ministry members were there within a minute, running around blocking off the street and performing Memory Charms and putting Muggles on stretchers destined to St Mungo's. The Aurors put him in chains and started dragging him off. Cornelius Fudge pulled him aside, and gave him a disgusted look as he put Peter's partially eaten finger in a box. Still, he couldn't stop laughing. They hauled him off to Azkaban and shoved him in a cell without even bothering to remove the chains. Even when the Dementors came floating in after years of absence from the wizard prison when they had joined Lord Voldemort, he couldn't help giving one last laugh. After that, Sirius never laughed again — not until his escape over ten years later.


End file.
